Writtings By grace
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THE RESOLUTE IS NOT RESOLUTING.
2023 is here, and with the collective hope of a new year and the newness of the season comes the resolutions. Year after year, I make lists of things I will do and not do. I dream big and make grandiose plans. few weeks into the year, my resolute it not resoluting. I conjure all manner of reasons and excuses as to why I have deviated from the plan: work overtook me, January was fifty days long, unexpected situations arose, I am not equipped to do it, and so on and so forth. But the truth is that once the euphoria of the newness ends, the resolute in the resolutions have dwindled because I am not being consistent.
The Oxford Learners' Dictionary defines consistency as the quality of always behaving in the same way or of having the same opinions. I deviate from this quality of behaviour, and this leads to my being deflated and without energy. I read a post from a friend of mine about resolutions. It went something like this: nothing magical happens at midnight; for resolutions to work, we need to put in the work, and consistency is the key. I am learning to keep at it even when I do not feel like it, when I have no energy, or even when my schedule does not align.
Looking back into the year that has ended, maintaining consistency in one area was the confirmation this analogy. I was consistent in saving an amount monthly for a specific goal, and it was a success. I was consistent despite the excuses and through the reasons, and I met my goal. This year I am resolute in this, to pick up the goals I had laid down and steadily work though them no excuses, no reasons just putting in the work, daily.
2023 is here! Let the resolutions be resolute, and consistent.
1 opmerking
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Exercise 1.1 | Present Yourself
I am a creation of God with the complexities of man, a mother of three, one I gave birth to and the other two I acquired via my older siblings. At birth I was named my mother named Grace, but my father named me Diana. I named myself Gertrude as I I grew older (it has everything to do with the fact that I was once Catholic). Chicken is my favourite meat to it. Potatoes are next in line especially the deep friend ones, my coloniser calls it chips the Americans call it fries. I am pretty sure coffee was created with me in mind.
My relationship with writing is a love and hate one, I write because it reminds me of my of my father, my hero and greatest disappointment. You see he died on me, his time was up and he went to be with our ancestors. He was my hero, friend and number 1 cheerleader. He gave me the gift of imagination and storytelling, sometimes writing hurts too much because it’s a stark reminder that he is not here to see or read the words that are inspired by him. The silver lining in this is lately, my perspective has changed I write to him now and the process is not so much depression but inspiring. When we meet again I don’t have a lot to catch up on. I want to share the gift of imagination and word wielding with the world to remember my father and heal the pain in my heart and for the world to know my hero, friend, and cheerleader.
Origineel weergeven
Origineel verbergen
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